Finding my way Home

Nothing Alone

Melora groaned and brought her hand up to her head. She felt the soft fur beneath her, and her heart sped up. Where was she? The last memory was of Thranduil saying that her place was beside him and then nothing. She felt her face heat up; she had let her anxiety get the best of her, and she had passed out. She is sure she made an excellent impression; at least he probably no longer wanted to whisk her away to his kingdom. She could stay with Bard and his children until the spring and then search for a way back to her world. That is what she wanted...right? She asks herself. Before she could continue down that rabbit hole she heard a soft voice.

"Nin Mel, everything is alright. You are in our tent. Can you open your eyes?"

Melora moved her hand from her face and turned toward the voice. King Thranduil sat upon the side of the cot. His face was cleaned from the black blood that had left a streak upon it earlier, and his face was more handsome up close. His eyes looked warmer as he sat beside her. "I'm sorry," Melora uttered, "I did not mean to faint," she added as his lips turned up slightly.

"All is well now, Nin Mel," Thranduil assured. "Feren once again reminded me that you had divulged that you had lost some memories." Thranduil turned and placed the cloth he had been using to clean your face back in the bowl of water that was sitting beside the cot. " Can you tell me what you do remember?" he asked, turning back to you.

"Waking up in a hospital," you blurted out; you had planned to be very careful about the information you revealed about yourself. When you found yourself lost in this strange world, Bard and you agreed the fewer people who knew you were from another world, the better. There was something about this elf that your heart said you could trust, even if your head was unsure.

"A hospital," He questioned, perplexed.

"It's a big building with healers," you explained. I was there for a long time," you added.

"Yes," Thranduil agreed, "you have been gone for centuries. The healers must not have been elven. If they were, I could not understand why they would fail to send me word so I could bring you home."

You now gave him a perplexed look; this elf said you had been gone for centuries. You had only lived 5, almost 6 years after your accident, yet he is speaking about hundreds of years. "I do not think I am who you think I am," you told him softy. Your heart seemed to protest, but there was no way you could be whom he sought if the person he was missing had been gone for that long.

"Are you insinuating that I wouldn't know my wife?" Thranduil looked you in the eyes, "The moment I saw you, I knew your face. I have spent centuries trying to forget it, to block the pain that came with what I thought was your death. I sealed my kingdom away to keep the last piece of you safe, yet you dare say that you are not who I think you are?" he quietly asks. You sensed danger and felt that he would have been less dangerous had he yelled and screamed. Yet his icy eyes still fixed on your face, "I would know you even if I were blind; your fae sings to mine, Nin Mel," he finished.

"But I cannot be who you think I am." You pressed on, needing to explain, "Yes, I have lost my memories, but that was only 5 years ago, not centuries. I haven't even been alive for centuries. When he first met me, Bard called me an elf, but I don't even know what that means." You exclaimed wildly, "I don't even really know how I got here; one minute, I am falling in the pond in my neighborhood in the middle of the night; the next, I am being hauled onto a boat from the middle of the lake" you added in a rush.

"That was only 8 months ago now."

"You only came to Laketown eight months ago," Thranduil asked. When you nodded, he asked, "Where were you before you were in Laketown?"

"In my world," you say softly. "I was planning to seek out the elves come spring to see if they could find a way to send me home."

Thranduil ignored that last statement and asked, "And your memory loss?" He pressed.

"Was caused by an accident. They found me in a park. I had been assaulted and burned. No one knows how I got to the middle of the park, but I was unconscious when they found me and was taken to the local hospital. My face and arm were burned badly, and I had broken bones. I didn't wake up for a while; I have had multiple surgeries to fix my face." Melora took a breath, "They never found my attackers, and no one came to claim me."

Thranduil looked pensive, "You had nothing that helped these healers know where you should be returned to?"

"If you mean identification, no, I didn't have a wallet, a driver's license, or even a credit card. All I had were clothes on my back that were severely damaged and a necklace that they gave me at discharge. The chain was broken, so I keep it in a jewelry box on my dresser at home."

"Was this necklace silver with a pendant of a leaf made of silver and emeralds?" Thranduil asks softly, watching your face.

"How did you know?" You stuttered.

"It was I who gave it to you," he said softly, his eyes looking far away. "You never took it off, you said. This was the most precious of all the jewels I had ever gifted you. It represented." He stopped himself and looked at you with a sad and wistful smile.

"It represented what?" you questioned. While your head still felt that this was too crazy of a scenario for you to be the person he was missing, your heart was telling you this elf was important to you—that it was he you had been missing.

"I do not wish to overwhelm you," Thranduil explained softly. "I know you stated that you would decide if you were to travel to Mirkwood, but I ask that you go with me. I cannot linger here for too long. I am a King, and my kingdom needs me," Thranduil explained, "I will answer all your questions and more once we are safe inside the palace walls. Have elven healers to assist you. I have asked Feren to check to see if Gandalf is still milling about somewhere."

"Gandalf," You ask, confused.

"The grey wizard, if magic had a hand in how you were taken from me, we need to know. I do not want to lose you again now that you have returned to me." Thranduil told you as he placed his hand on your cheek, which was scarred.

You turned your head to remove your scarred cheek from his palm, "Please don't touch that side of my face." You would not look him in the eyes.

"Nin Mel, there is nothing wrong with your face; it means you are a survivor," Thranduil assured you.

"Was that her name?" you ask, looking at him wide-eyed. "Nin Mel? Sometimes, in my dreams, when they are good ones, I hear a voice calling Mel. I never knew what it meant. I always assumed it was a nickname short for something that started with Mel, like Melody or Melinda. I chose Melora because I thought it sounded pretty and still had Mel in it." You explained.

"Nin Mel means My Love," Thranduil told you softly. "Can you not understand our native tongue, Sindar?" he asked.

You shook your head, no. "I had to relearn reading and writing in the hospital," you told him. I had to relearn a lot of things." Your face looked troubled as your world was again tipping on its axis.

Thranduil looked at you again, and his eyes were soft, "Fear not, Nin Mel, I am here, and you face nothing alone."